Bloom
by jokestaplease
Summary: She was a puppy, but she'd grow into a dog; a caged dog. If you let loose a caged dog, they're either your most loyal partner, or... they'd be just like him. He didn't know which he preferred.
1. i

**Oh hey there, I didn't see you there... Nah, I did. Um, so, this is my first fanfiction. It's alright I guess, I'm still a bit iffy on my characterisation, but I figured you guys could give me some constructive criticism? Yeah? No? Maybe so?**

**Eh, whatever. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this. I mostly write for fun, but I might update this. If I feel like it, or if enough people like the story enough... So yeah, hi. Okay, I'll stop, I swear, just... get onto reading the story before I say something super embarrassing.**

******Disclaimer:****I don't own anything from the Batman franchise or anything associated with this story that is _not mine_. The characters and back stories belong to DC, _not me_. The only character that I own is my OC, Chace, and the plot(s) involving her.**

* * *

It was a cold night; raining.

She had her knees curled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them too; trying to generate the smallest bit of heat. She'd really have to complain to the man - the one that thought that he owned her - about the lack of heat.

She was sure that she could barely even_ feel_ her toes, hands, fingers, ears, _anything_.

She had decided to get up and get some hot chocolate some time ago, trying to drink heat to get some heat. No such luck.

She shivered - for the _forty-fifth_ time tonight - and turned her head down into her knees. You'd think that a grown man - that had, basically, bought her - would at least _try_ to take care of her; her little twelve-year-old frame wouldn't have even made a _cannibal_ hungry; no meat on her. Nothing to keep her _warm_.

She wished that someone could have stayed; keep her company.

That was when she heard it; a noise (on the fire escape?). She wanted to move, but she had to mentally prepare herself first; the cold had - practically - solidified her into a block of ice. It hurt to move.

During the time that it took her to move, she could hear the noises wedging open the window to the fire escape; loud, it frightened her at first. She wondered if this person knew that she was here. Though she did remember the man - the main man - saying something about having to help people during the night; to not be afraid of the people. They worked for them.

She wondered if that was who was coming in.

She was standing and shivered one last time before she walked - quietly - into the living room, well... not into the living room, she just pulled open the door from her bedroom to the living room. It, thankfully, didn't make a sound but her intruder did; a hiss. At first she thought that they had seen her, but they were clutching their side. It looked like they were hurt.

Maybe it _was_ a person was coming in to get help.

She watched as he collapsed on the couch; eyes closed (in pain? Concentration?) and teeth bared; yellow teeth. Looked like they didn't even know what a tooth-brush was. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and she opened the door a bit more; it creaked, she froze.

The person's eyes shot open and their head snapped - it looked like, if they had moved fast enough, they would have snapped their own_ neck_ - in her direction. Their eyes were black; no... brown. Green? She couldn't decide.

She _did_ feel scared though; like a deer in headlights. They had _seen_ her, no one was allowed to know that she was here - apart from the main man's workers. The girl still hadn't decided if they were friend or foe. Although, he _did _look a bit too hurt to be considered a foe, right now.

He didn't look like one of the main man's workers. They were black, he was... white? Pale white, not skin colour. He had a big smile; red, like blood. Well... it looked like blood. His eyes definitely looked black, he had big, black circles around them. He looked like the devil... a really happy devil.

Her eyebrows furrowed when he grinned at her; wasn't he hurt? Shouldn't he be asking for help? "Have a uh, _bad dream_?" She blinked, confused. How would she reply to that? He was still grinning; the red blood paint made it look like his smile covered his whole face.

Her head tilted, curious. She wasn't sure if she should talk. Instead, she looked down where he was clutching; definitely bleeding. She swallowed, wondering if she should help him. She chewed on her lip, looking back up at his eyes; dark. She shivered - _not_ from the cold - he was watching her intensely, studying her. She wondered if he was always so intimidating; the main man wouldn't hire anyone like him.

"Hmm?" He asked, his voice hoarser than the first time he talked. The grin was gone, still looked like he was smiling though.

She tilted her head in the other direction, confused and a little nervous. "No, I didn't."

His mouth curled in a sort of smirk... but not a happy smirk, more an annoyed smirk. "How _un_-_for_-_tun_-_ate_." Her eyebrows furrowed; he_ wanted_ her to have a bad dream?

Well, isn't he a delight. She turned back into her room and was about to go to sleep, when the thing - that some people call a conscience - started bugging her. She sighed and looked at the half closed-door, skeptical.

She decided that she would help him.

Going into the bathroom, she grabbed her first aid kit and peeked - again - out to the man; he was trying to get up. She frowned, pushing the door open - wanting the door to creak to get his attention. He stopped trying to get up and grunted when he landed back on the couch, looking at her. Her curious eyes met his annoyed ones;_ clearly_ he didn't like being hurt (and useless?).

She took a hesitant step forward, showing him that she was going to - try - help him. "D-Do you need help?" Another step.

He scoffed - and looked like he rolled his eyes (cheeky bastard). "Hard-_ly_."

She frowned, looking towards his wound. "But you're-"

"Fine." He pressed on, annoyance turning to slight anger. "I'm just _peachy_."

Her shoulders slouched, seemingly defeated. "C'mon, please?" Only _seemingly_ defeated; not _actually _defeated. She took another step forward and she noticed his own shoulders rising with her every step.

Did he think she was going to attack him? She was only 4'10, it wasn't like she'd do any_ lasting_ damage. "You're uh, _asking_ to help me?" He began grinning again, a high-pitched giggle bubbled in his throat; it felt like he was mocking her.

She huffed, her own lips curling into the beginnings of a grimace. "Well, you won't _let_ me." Her arms had folded and her foot had lifted - just the tiniest bit (if he wasn't the observant man that he was, he'd have missed it) - and stomped back down. She looked like a child; which was alright because she was a child.

His head tilted, eyes roaming over her body. She was sure it wasn't sexual - it didn't seem sexual - it was more him sizing her up. "What game are you uh, _playing_?"

Her eyes turned hopeful, a small smile gracing her features. "A game of doctor?" She'd even taken another small step forwards; she really _did_ want to help him. Which was... unusual. For him. He did giggle though; clearly she had answered him the way he wanted her to answer.

He licked his lips and leaned forward - as far as he could, it looked like he even flinched. She hoped he wasn't too hurt. "A game of you uh,_ pretending_ to be a _boy_, dollface." She froze, her eyes widened. She was a puppy; a puppy caught by their owner doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

She swallowed thickly, her throat - suddenly - feeling dry. "I _am_ a boy." She offered weakly, her head was tilting downwards, her eyebrows coming together in a frown; she really did look like a scared little puppy. It amused him.

Her _answer_ didn't amuse him though; his grin turned into a scowl. He looked like a predator ready to pounce, she even had to hold back a whimper. "Don't_ lie_, dollface. A lying mouth will get you into t-_rouble_." His voice was extremely hoarse and low, it looked like he lost a lot of blood. She wanted to cry; he was practically _dying_ on the couch, he was _scaring_ her and it felt as though he was going to _kill_ her.

She looked down at her feet, not able to look at him anymore. "O-Okay."

As she was looking down, trying to push away fears, she looked at her first aid kit. She let out a shaky breath and tried to meet his gaze; it was hard, _so_ hard. They stayed like that; him - leaned forward, no doubt causing his wound to bleed even more, and he looked more intimidating than anyone she'd ever met before - and her - shaking, shivering, biting her lip, she was the very _definition_ of nervous now. Her eyes were pleading; she wanted to help him. "Wha-_t_." He growled, she wondered if he was feeling dizzy, having lost all that blood.

She cast her gaze down to it for a split second and then back up to his eyes. "Please?" She pleaded, taking a tentative step forward.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, not doing anything for a minute, before taking off his coat - she noticed him wincing _at least_ ten times, it worried her even more - and lying back on to the couch. She smiled and bound - clumsily, she noticed that as she was standing there, she'd got even more cold. And he scared her, which seemed to make her walk even more clumsy - and plopped herself down beside him. He giggled.

She instantly began tending to his wound once she sat down, trying to stop the shake in her hands so she could be even more careful. He didn't seem like a person that she wanted to hurt, or anger. Or kill. "Be care-_ful_, I'd hate to have your uh, _mother_ find you in... _pieces_." Apparently, she had made a mistake in some of the cleaning. Did she hurt him?

Probably not. She _did _become more gentle with the washing of his wound after that though.

She took her eyes away from her work and looked at him for a second, before looking back down to his wound. "She's..." She cleared her throat. "not here." Then tended to his wound again.

He scoffed. "Living by yourself, hmm? Not safe for a uh, little girl to be living in the Narrows, by her-self." He seemed to be looking at her even more intensely now; studying her. She didn't like it.

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "I... I don't..." It was like looking into an abyss; nothing. She _really_ didn't like it. Weren't the eyes supposed the windows to your soul?

He didn't like her hesitation, he even growled at her. "Don't wha-_t_."

She hastily shook her head. "Nothing." And reached for the needle and thread in the first aid kit, but a strong hand had a firm grip on her arm before she could reach it; _his_ strong hand. She looked up at him, panicking.

"Oh no, doll-_face_." His breath stank. "You're going to tell me what you were going to uh, _say_." And his teeth really _were_ stained; blood orange. "_Right_. _Now_." She wondered if that really _was_ a colour. She mentally slapped herself from her thoughts and fidgeted with her fingers, looking down at his wound. She noticed that her breathing was shallow too.

She took a deep breath and looked back up to his face. "I don't have parents." If he was surprised, he didn't show it. "I'm owned by the mob." He didn't really show anything other than anger and laughter in the last few minutes. Maybe he was extremely light-headed after all the blood loss. Yeah, that's probably it; doesn't explain why he has clown make up on though.

She was too scared to ask about that. "The mob uh, bought you?" He asked, no surprise showing; to her own surprise, _interest_ was showing. She didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. She decided to just think about it.

She'd never thought about it that way; being bought by the mob. She never knew _what_ happened to her; how she ended up here, helping a clown clean and tend to his wound. She wondered if she ever _did_ meet her mother. "I... guess?" She thought that she did, but all that she can remember is, being owned by the mob; no childhood.

None that she could _remember_, anyway.

He rolled his eyes and slapped his lips together, in - what she could only call - disappointment. Or annoyance. She didn't really that he really didn't like her; it seemed like he really didn't like her. "I don't _want_ guesswork, dollface. _Who_. _Bought_. _You_." He spoke lowly, leaning towards her. She shivered and began to feel scared again.

Her mind was drawing blank and she was beginning to panic - _again_. She bit her lip in concentration but nothing was coming; just a face. A man's face.

She looked at him, exasperated; scared; confused, even. "A-A guy! I-I don't know who he was!" She didn't know if that was the answer that he wanted. Probably not. All she's ever done is disappoint people; annoy people. What's one more person?

She noticed a twinkle in his eye and a corner of his mouth twitched up, quickly concealed. Was he amused by her fear? Had she been thinking more clearly, she would've called him out on it. Maybe. "I don't n-_ee_-_d_ a name, what did he uh, _look_ like?" His voice had a bit more bounce to it and she suddenly felt like an idiot, being laughed at because she was scared.

She wanted to hit him; tell him to shut up, but she decided not to. Then he would get really angry and his eyes were scary enough, she didn't need them to look even more terrifying than they already were. He really did look like a really happy devil; odd and scary. And happy.

She closed her eyes and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "He was... really tall; taller than you." She took a peek at him; he didn't seem impressed. Obviously there were a lot of people taller than him. She hoped to never meet them. "He-He..." She tried to think of more information, closing her eyes again.

_A man cleared his throat. "Sir?" _

_There was a tighter grip on her back now; she whimpered and he loosened his grip. She looked up at him, big, blue innocent eyes. "What?" She wondered if she was going to see her mother._

_She must've looked scared because he began rubbing soothing circles on her back, which did calm her down. "Who's the girl?" She started to feel sleepy, but then the man jerked her, his eyes asking her a question. What did the other man say? Something about her name._

_What was it that her father called her? Girl? Was that her name? Her aunt always called her Chace, so she decided that would be her name. "Chace, I'm Chace." She spoke, her voice trembling slightly. It really was freezing out, wasn't Autumn supposed to be a bit warm?_

_She hoped that she was going to see her mother, she couldn't even think of the last time she saw her mother. "Should we kill her?" Kill? What did that mean? She'd always heard her father saying to her aunt that he was going to kill her, but her aunt always had some good words for him. She wondered if they were taking her to her aunt. She hadn't seen her all day._

_She hoped that her aunt was okay; not hurt. "No." She laid her head back on the man's chest, he had a suit on. It felt like a blanket and she was more than pleased to sleep on his shoulder, she didn't know if he'd appreciate it, but she did it anyway. _

Opening her eyes again, she had a clearer picture of what he looked like; that was the only time she ever saw him. He always sent the man who was with him that night - Garrett - to meet her, talk with her (rarely, they rarely ever talked), and look after her. He mostly just gave her food though, not really what she _wanted_, just something that she needed to live.

She had a feeling that no one would be able to give her what she wanted though. "He was black and he had a really nice suit on; velvet, I think." She was looking at the ground, her mind elsewhere as she thought of that night. Her voice was light too, which gave the man _two_ reasons to believe that her mind was elsewhere.

He spoke out, his voice seemed firm; questioning. She felt like she was being interviewed, like the other times that Garrett would ask her questions about what she did that day - most of her answers included gymnastics. "And he _definitely_ worked with the mob, hmm? A uh, _head_ boss?"

The man certainly had a lot of people working for him, Chace had met a lot of them. "Yeah... Yeah, I think so." They didn't think of her as a friend though, just a person. She wondered if they saw a child when they saw her. They seemed so not attached that they didn't even realise that she was _there_; she remembered that._  
_

They sat in silence, Chace not knowing what to say and she suddenly felt really awkward.

He made an annoyed sound, getting her attention. "You want a uh, engraved invitation?" Lifting his arm back up to the back of the couch.

She quickly moved her hands back to work. "No, I-" The girl didn't want to offend him, she had begun to like him; just a bit. She hoped that he was starting to like her too.

He interrupted her. "Why did he uh, _buy_ you?" He slid just a small bit closer to her.

The girl pouted and sighed. "I don't know, he never tells me anything." She grumbled. Chace never really liked that main man, not for the last while at least.

He didn't talk for a minute, neither did she. Chace just tried to tend to his wounds faster because he seemed to be getting more and more annoyed with each passing second, which scared her a bit. "I'll have to _change_ that, won't I?" Now _that_ was interesting. He didn't seem to like her up until then, or at least, he had _intimidated_ her up until then. She wondered if he felt intimidated by her, but she quickly threw the thought away - for the second time that night.

She paused her work to give him a strange look. "You'll... _change_ it?" Her eyebrows furrowed and she imagined that she looked almost comical with how confused she looked.

He even giggled, or failed to hide one. "_I_. _Will_. _Change_. _It_." He pronounced each word, leaning closer to her with each word too. It felt like he was trying to intimidate her - again - but she couldn't decide. They were some helpful words though; made her feel a bit more comfortable. She wondered if he knew how to be anything _other _than intimidating.

Probably not.

She tilted her head, curious, yet flattered. "For me?" She had to hide a smile.

He openly grinned at her though. "For you." It seemed like a promise; a _dark_ promise. Chace wondered if this man was going to hurt the main man. She hoped he wouldn't; she'd hate to feel like someone died because of her.

Her eyes widened. "Oh..." That was one of the biggest compliments that she's ever gotten. Imagine that, the biggest compliment that she'd ever get in her life was from a _clown_. Or someone who _looked _like a clown.

The man moved to crack his neck and turned to her again. "You got a uh, name?"

She didn't lift her eyes from his wound this time. "Chace." She said simply; nothing more, nothing less. She was just Chace.

He tilted his head and it sounded like he was chewing on something. Did he go into the kitchen to get something to eat? "Just one name?" She looked up, concerned to see that he _was _chewing on something; his cheek? No, his scars. He was chewing on his _scars_.

Frowning, she looked back down to his wound, almost done with the stitching. "... Yeah." She spoke thoughtfully, she wondered if the scars hurt. Probably not since he was _chewing _on them.

He made an amused sound. "I like tha-_t_." He seemed to be saying things that he _liked _about her now, which made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't know how to deal with compliments.

Chace hesitated - again - on the last stitch, not knowing how to respond to that. "You... You do?" She'd never been complimented before.

He nodded. "Mmm." She couldn't tell if he was joking; certainly looked like he was joking. He _was_ smiling after all. Though he was _always_ smiling, she wondered if he liked being called a Joker.

Her eyebrows furrowed, confused. She'd never been talked to like that before; it was always demands and orders, never... talking nice to her. It felt nice and she wanted to hug him. She wondered if he was warm, she'd always wanted a warm hug when she felt cold.

She almost felt guilty when she wanted to ask him a question, he'd been so nice to her. Although, she had been nice to him first. And he wasn't as nice to her during the start of their conversation. She looked down to her hands, avoiding his eyes. "What's..." She hesitated. "What's your name?" She assumed that he didn't like people not finishing their sentences.

She wondered if he _didn't_ like her.

He looked thoughtful, like he was carefully choosing his words. "I don't have a uh, name."

The brunette frowned at him. "Then what'll I call you?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Why - we gonna m-_ee_-t again?" He teased, his grin even more present. She hadn't talked like this with anyone before. It was nice, she felt... warm, like there was a warmth inside her. She'd never had a warmth inside her before. Not like this. She wondered if he felt the same way...

She slid closer to him, her eyes pleading and a slight smile growing on her lips. "Please?" She'd said please a lot tonight, more than she ever had. She wondered if it had a double meaning; please stay and please tell me. She didn't think about it too much though.

"J. Call me Mister J."

* * *

**So there it is! My masterpiece... Not really, like I said, I'm not overly thrilled with some of the characterisations that I did, but yeah. You guys are nice right? I'm sure that at a later date I'll update this. Also, rated T because I'm paranoid, sorry.**

**And I'll stop right here because I _will _embarrass myself if I talk anymore.**

**P.S Sorry, this update was just me adding a disclaimer, because I forgot it the first time... Whoops**


	2. i - part ii

**Wow. W-o-w. Whoa. W-h-o-a. There are lots of you - aka four of you, but to me that's a lot okay? - that actually liked the one shot? I can't believe that, I got _four _reviews, man. I gotta up my game! Gotta get my get my head in the game, you gotta get your, ****get your, ****get your, ****get your head.**

******Sorry, HSM used to be my life okay? Don't judge me. Anyways, not much to comment on this, since this is the same as the first chapter? Well, the dialogue and the scene is the same. I decided to put it into a third person Joker POV. Honestly, my POV's get kinda weird sometimes, so bear with me. So, after the disclaimer, you'd want to read my interpretation of Joker's thoughts during that scene right? Right.**

**************Disclaimer: ****I don't own anything from the Batman franchise or anything associated with this story that is _not mine_. The characters and back stories belong to DC, _not me_. The only character that I own is my OC, Chace, and the plot(s) involving her.**

* * *

It was a cold night; raining.

He'd just been _in_-_tro_-_ducing_ himself to some of his new... buddies, when his buddies decided that it would be funny to send some guards after him. Don't get him wrong, he was all for jokes, but not that one. That one. _Wasn't_. _Funny_. It wasn't _his_ joke either, which made it _less_ funny. The goon - he decided to call biscuit - decided that it would be funny to make a gun go **bang**.

He just fixed that bang with a smile. A real one. He even said that biscuit was the first cookie to _crumble_.

Ha hE HO HA H HA HA HO HE he hoo

Oh, he just cracked himself u-_p_ sometimes. Biscuit didn't feel the same, what a shame it is. To have people on this football - that some people call _Earth_ - that don't even have a sense. Of. _Humour_. He could tell you one person that did though. Their name rhymes with mat. No, no, not the Cat, that blasted _Cat_. Always _stealing_ his jokes... Not really, he just _didn't_ like her.

No, it's the _Bat_. He sure knows how to work up an audience, like him. Except, he did it with more... pizazz. The Bat did it so... _boringly_. Funny how his last thoughts are going to be about a Bat and a Cat, but they aren't. Why? Because he just found his stairway to Heaven, only a fire escape. There has to be some sorry little piggie looking to be _slaughtered_, or just an empty apartment that he could break into to fix himself u-p.

He preferred the former.

Now, which little piggie came home, hmm? Is it tha-_t_ one? No-_pe_, that's a guy popping some girl's cherry. Loudly. He'd hate to be the reason that a guy missed his score night. He cackled at the idea and continued up the stairs, finding himself to be clutching at his side. Who was after biscuit? Oh yes! Salty. Now, he was the one that- No, he didn't taste like salt. He was the one who shouted Dalton.

Don't get it? Dalton, Dalty, Salty. You should come to Gotham, so that he, _himself_, can give you a sense of humour. You seem to be la-cking. The Joker found himself clenching his jaw, cursing his slight pickiness with apartments, so he decided that _this_ one would do. It seemed like no one was home; a shame. He'd just have to tell himself his own jokes now; pity. They are just oh, _so_ funny.

The window was hard to open, even harder to close. This person was definitely a care-ful one; not one for alarms though. He would've laughed but he decided that he'd rather not get even more attention than he already did. Biscuit did quite a number on him, he must've been a spry little cookie. Walking over to the couch, Joker carefully sat down, hissing and clutching harder at his wound. He wished that biscuit could come back to life, so he could give him an even bigger smile.

His teeth bared, he laid his head back against the cushion of the chair. How was he going to get up again? He almost growled at himself for even thinking of sitting down. Almost. Not before he heard a creak.

A creak that he _instantly_ reacted to.

There was... a child, he couldn't decide if they were a boy or girl; the shadows blocked - hid - too much. They seemed curious, if a little _scared_. A grin tugged at  
his lips, to which they gave him a confused look; made his grin even bigger. "Have a uh, bad dream?" They didn't reply for a while, just tilted their head, which made him annoyed. They weren't about to ig-nore them, were they? "Hmm?" His voice was a lot gruffer than the first time he talked; his anger coming through in his voice.

He even stopped _grinning_ at them.

They tilted their head in the other direction. A confused pout forming. "No, I didn't." It made him smile, still annoyed though; how didn't he realise it was a girl  
straight away? Her voice was a _dead_ give away. He pondered killing her, but she was a child. He only killed women, men and babies; not _children_. He hoped that this... girl liked dead baby jokes, he'd heard a good one before. Not a joke though; a riddle. It was a good riddle.

Joker licked his bottom lip. "How _un_-_for_-_tun_-_ate_." It only made the girl even more confused; frustrated maybe. She stumbled back into the room that she came out of (bedroom?) to which he made an amused sound. Clearly, she had _no_ sense of humour. He might just fix it. Yes, he'd de-fin-ite-ly fix i-_t_. She'd appreciate it; she _better_ appreciate it.

Leaning forward, he prepared himself for the pain in getting up. It started around the wound, then quickly moved around his body like fire. Now, he _loved_ the fire; _lived_ for it. He _wanted_ to live for it, so feeling on fire was. _Not_. _Helping_. There was another creak; that girl. What did she want this time? He decided he wanted to humour her and sat back down on the couch with a grunt, oh, how he loved not being able to get u-_p_. One of the many joys in life that people never. Find. Out. About.

He watched her, giving her all of the anger and annoyance that he was feeling. She looked like she really didn't appreciate it, but still took a - hesitant - step  
forward, frowning. His shoulders hunched, slightly; subconciously. "D-Do you need help?" Another step, more of a hunch; brave girl.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Hard-_ly_." Funny girl too; thought she knew something about tending to wounds. Must be why she's considered a _child_.

Her frown turned to the beginnings of a scowl, except not. It was a confused scowl; she looked like a _puppy_. "But you're-"

"_Fine_." He pressed on, not liking how the girl was still here. "I'm just _peachy_."

Her shoulders slouched, defeated. "C'mon, please?" Not as defeated as he liked, but she was get-ting there. She even took another step and his shoulders were as high as they were going to get - he was getting defensive around a girl, he almost laughed at himself. Not quite though.

He settled for grinning at that _stupid_ dumbfounded expression on the girl's face. "You're asking to uh, _help_ me?" He couldn't keep the high-pitched giggle down, it seemed to bubble up his throat, like a sneeze or cough that just needed to happen. His giggles were so much more en-ter-tain-ing than a sneeze or cough though, especially for _him_.

The girl huffed and crossed her arms at him; even did the most childish thing known to man - or to him - she stomped her foot. It wasn't a huge stomp, quite small actually. He probably would've missed it, had he not been as observant as he is. "Well, you won't _let_ me." She grumbled, giving him an angry pout. He had to fight against a laugh; she was such a _child_, which was okay because she _was_ a child.

Tilting his head, he began to size her up. She was tiny; no bigger than 5 foot, if even that. She couldn't possibly think that someone was that much of an idiot to think that she was a boy, if they did then Joker hoped to meet them. Have their mouths ripped open, preferably into a smile. Just. Like. Dalton. "What _game_ are you uh, _playing_?" He asked, wanting to see just how much of an idiot she might be. Or might not be; he always liked a smart child. They were so much more fun to... mould.

Her eyes became hopeful; childish hope. There was even a smile growing on her lips; in-ter-es-ting. He'd never made someone actually smile before, just a pretend one; like _his_. "A game of doctor?" She'd even taken another small step forwards; she really _did_ want to help him. Which was... unusual. For him. He did giggle though; which was good for her. She was amusing.

He licked his lips and leaned forward, making eye contact with her; trying to ignore the winces too, biscuit really gave him a new one. Though Joker gave him a new one too; he'd always keep a promise. "A _game_ of you uh, _pretending_ to be a _boy_, dollface." His head tilted and he gave her a look. She froze, her eyes widened. She was a _puppy_; a puppy caught by their owner doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

She was ab-so-lute-ly adorable. And fun. Adorable and fun - like a puppy. He couldn't remember the last time that he _really_ had to bite back the giggles, he was even biting at his scars to stop them. He wondered if she knew that she was his new plaything. Probably not; made it even more fun. Playthings were so much fun when they can talk; and when they're alive. So. Much. _Fun_.

The Joker could hear her swallow thickly, her defensive mode kicking in; he didn't even know that she _had_ one. "I _am_ a boy." She offered weakly, her head moving down to look at the ground, she even began to frown; she really was a little puppy. _His_ new little puppy, who just amused him to no end. Her answer didn't amuse him though, he didn't like _liars_.

And she was just getting on his fun side. He wanted to say _"No, no, no, dollface. That's no-t how you play this ga-me. If there's one thing that won't survive a game, it's a liar. So. Don't. Lie,"_ but decided against it, he'd hate to scare her away. He was only just starting to have fun with her; he did need to teach her a lesson though. One that involved her. Not. Lying.

His grin turned to a scowl, his head tilted downwards and he had a dangerous glint in his eye. Funny how she actually thought that she looked like a boy. Though he still did scare her; her muffled whimper told him so. "Don't lie, dollface. A lying mouth will get you into t-_rouble_." His voice was low; threatening, yet hoarse too. He needed a drink, or to clean up this wound.

The girl looked down to her feet, hunching her shoulders like he was. Cl-ear-ly, she felt threatened. Good. He didn't _like_ liars. Not. One. _Bit_. "O-Okay..."

She let out a shaky breath and tried to meet his gaze; he didn't make it easy. He didn't _want_ to make it easy. He wanted to know just how brave or cowardly she was; she wasn't doing as good a job as he wished she was, but she was doing better than most. He liked her for it. They stayed like that; him - leaned forward, no doubt causing his wound to bleed even more - and her - shaking, shivering, biting her lip, it almost made him laugh. Almost. Her eyes were pleading; she wanted to help him. He'd have to make sure. "Wha-_t_." He growled at her, not liking just how long she had been looking at him.

She had the nerve to look down to where he was hurt and the Joker felt like killing her right then and there; if only she _wasn't_ wanting to help him. She then met his annoyed gaze with her... he didn't know how to describe her (innocent?) eyes; he decided to go with _puppy_ eyes. "Please?" The girl pleaded, taking a tentative step forward.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, not doing anything for a minute, before taking off his coat - he did wince a few times, which annoyed him to no end, and he felt like growling at himself - and lying back on to the couch. She smiled and bound - clumsily - over to him and plopped herself down beside him. He giggled. She was such a _grace_-ful little piggie; shame she didn't know that she was going to get slaughtered - sooner or later - by his lady; _Gotham_.

The Joker had noticed the slight shake in her hands once she came over to him; _before_ that actually. He also noticed that, as he was up here, Gotham was begging him to come back; the shadows reaching out, but not quite wrapping themselves around his arms - to drag him back to Gotham. That was when he first entered, now... Gotham seemed to beg for a different thing; a _plaything_. A _child_ plaything. He could think of all the ways to mould them - make them into his little puppet - without them rea-lis-ing. It's simple, really. This little piggie seemed to be a per-_fect_ contestant; all. Alone.

A sharp tug brought the Joker out of his imagination - oh, how _vivid_ it was - and back to this girl; this plaything. She wasn't as gentle as she looked. "Be _care_-ful, I'd hate to uh, have your mother find you in... pieces." The piggie looked up at him, still looking like she was just waiting to be slaughtered. Such an innocent little _piggie_.

The girl looked back down to the bullet and back up to him, then again and again; looked like some weird dance. "She's..." She cleared her throat; looked  
uncomfortable. "not here." She spoke in a small voice, scared that if she made a real sound, she'd be in trouble. The brunette began rubbing it again, much more gently this time. She's a lot smarter than some of his men, he'll give that to her.

He scoffed; bit amusing, her naivety. Definitely something to exploit. "Living by yourself, hmm? Not safe for a uh, little _girl_ to be living in the Narrows, by her-  
_self_." His head tilted downwards and he licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at her. He couldn't decide if she actually was telling the truth; funny if she was;  
strange, odd, funny. Definitely _funny_. He'd laugh but he didn't want to make himself bleed again, that'd only make him laugh harder. The next question; why would Gotham, his lady Gotham, want a plaything? A _child_ plaything.

Naivety? Nah, that'd already been done. Innocence? No, too obvious. An ace in the hole? No, no Gotham, that's Harvey's job. An ace? _Now_ we're getting somewhere. Gotham's little _Ace_ of _Spades_; definitely her name. She just didn't know it yet.

She shifted uncomfortably under his studying. "I... I don't..." She hesitated; she _hes_-_i_-_tat_-_ed_. That was _not_ something that he loved, something that he hated;  
reminded him of his men, the stupid idiots that he hired. Not that he needed Albert Einsteins, just someone to get the job done. Some smarts would be nice to have in a henchman though.

But he did not like _her_ hesitation, he even growled at her. "Don't wha-_t_." Better be a good answer, _dollface_. He'd hate to have to paint this room red, with your  
blood. He'd be amused too, but _Gotham_ would not. The things that he did for Gotham.

She hastily shook her head. "Nothing." And reached for the needle and thread in the first aid kit; hesitation, fear, trying to drop the subject. He thought that he  
told her to be careful. This. Is. _Not_. _Careful_.

Maybe he should scare her, make her believe that he really is going to kill her; scare her into sub-mis-sion. "Oh no, _doll_-face." He leaned in closer. "You're going to tell me what you were going to uh, _say_." She was caught in a corner now. "_Right_. _Now_." No escape; only him. What to puppies do in corners? They cower, plead for mer-cy; he wasn't feeling merciful tonight. The girl was scared - he could hear it in her breathing. Shallow, laboured, scared. Why so ser-i-ous, doll-_face_?

The girl tried to steady her breathing; steady her mind; steady her _fear_. She even looked up at him, the little pup. "I don't have parents." Now, now, _every_-one had parents. She just didn't know who her's were. "I'm owned by the mob." The Joker'd be more than pleased to step in for them; she deserves the best care, best crim-in-al. Not. The. _Mob_.

But being owned by the mob? At the girl's age? He wondered what she did, and what her parents did. And what the mob did. "The mob uh, _bought_ you?" He asked, the interest creeping into his voice. She might be more alone than he thought; more lonely than he thought. That'd only make things easier; boring. She better put on a show, or she's going to be kicked. _Off_. The island.

Dollface was a bit hesitant - _again_. Dollface isn't a quick learner, that's for sure. "I... guess?" He rolled his eyes and slapped his lips together, in disappointment. Or annoyance. He wasn't too sure yet; didn't want to be sure, wanted to be _amused_.

She wasn't winning any points in the amusing column now, c'mon dollface; _work_ with him. "I don't want guesswork, dollface. _Who_. Bought. You." _Who stole his plaything_? He spoke lowly, leaning towards her. She shivered - _again_. He wondered if she was cold, it was a cold night, he'd even put a jacket on.

The girl looked at him, exasperated; scared; confused, even. Little puppy was still trapped in a corner, if only she knew. Knew that she could've ran; he wouldn't be as fast as he usually is. She'd have a chance. A chance to get away. "A-A guy! I-I don't know who he was!" The girl was getting _fran_-_tic_; fun-ny. He loved people getting scared, most of all puppies. Puppies who felt like they were trapped, more than they usually are.

Ace was winning some points in the amusing column, which was good. He even had to bite down a giggle, she probably saw. Did talk about it though; how... _rude_. "I don't nee-_d_ a name, what did he uh,_ look like_?" His voice even had more of a bounce to it, he loved when a puppy would amuse him. He didn't even have to kick it, they just cowered. They didn't want to get kicked in the first place.

She closed her eyes and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "He was... really tall; taller than you." Not _help_-ful dollface. C'mon, c'mon, _work_ with him here. Don't make _him_ do all the work. She even peeked at him, he really, really, _re_-_a_-_lly_ wanted to giggle. Not yet, not until the finale starts. "He-He..." The girl was deep in thought though. He wondered just how long she'd been with the mob. Must've been a long time, given that she was thinking very, very hard. Then she opened her eyes; looked thoughtful. Did she have an epiphany? Oh, he just knew how to crack himself u-_p_. "He was black and he had a really nice suit on; velvet, I think." A name sprung to mind; _Gambol_. A talker, not a walker.

What was he doing with a child? _His_ child. _Gotham's_ child.

He was sure to keep his voice firm; questioning. Take her away from her epiphany. "And he definitely worked with the mob, _hmm_? A uh, _head_ boss?"

There was a slight bit of nodding and a bite of her lip in her answer. "Yeah... Yeah, I think so."

They sat in silence, this girl wasn't doing anything for his wound, ignoring him; he should _remind_ her. He made an annoyed sound, getting her attention. "You want a uh, _engraved_ invitation?" He licked his lips and lifted his arm back up to the back of the couch. That seemed to get her out of her daze, which was good. Again, she was _hesitant_, which was _aw_-ful.

She quickly moved to right her wrong. "No, I-"

But he interrupted her. "Why did he uh, _buy_ you?" Gambol, Gambol, Gambol. You have _hoes_ and _bros_, little girls don't fit in that little life-style you've cre-ated  
yourself. Maybe he wanted a change, Joker didn't _like_ that change. He didn't liked _rapists_; paedophiles are even _worse_. She must be really lonely with his bros and hoes, that's in-ter-est-ing. And boring. He slid closer to her, just a bit; wanting for her to associate him with warmth - as a _friend_.

The girl pouted and sighed, annoyed. "I don't know, he never tells me anything." She grumbled. Annoyed. He didn't know that puppies could get annoyed. Anyone would get annoyed with Gambol though, so he couldn't _blame_ her. Not at all. He didn't blame people though, he didn't _like_ the blame game. It wasn't a real game; a _coward's_ game. He _wasn't _a coward.

He didn't talk for a minute, neither did she. She was moving faster, he didn't know why. Probably to keep him happy. Did she still think that he was going to kill her - if she did anything wrong? Dollfaces are just so funny; she'd caught his attention. She'd caught _Gotham's_ attention. Will they change her for better or for worse? "I'll have to change that, won't I?" No, they'd change her for better **and** for worse. It's what made Gotham... _fun_. He just loved how his mistress would reward him - thank him, for _ev_-_er_-_y_-thing that he does. Which is a lot.

She paused and gave him a strange look. "You'll... change it?" She was confused, maybe even flattered. Joker doubted that bros and hoes made time for her, let alone comp-li-ment her. He'd be sure to teach them a lesson in manners. Or the girl would teach them some manners; that would be a show. Fun. He loved shows, especially ones where puppies and bros were involved.

Joker giggled, leaning just a little bit closer. He didn't think that she noticed. "_I_. _Will_. _Change_. _It_." He pronounced each word, leaning closer to her with each  
word too. He was sure that she noticed that; if she didn't... he wouldn't be happy with her anymore. He'd have to look for a different puppy - different piggie - then. She wouldn't disappoint though; worked too hard to let that happen.

The girl tilted her head; curious, maybe even flattered. "For me?" He could see the smile; he could _see_ the _smile_. He was going to keep her for a while. Definitely. She'd be great as bait for his plans, she'd even know how to _amuse_ him.

He openly grinned at her though, amused; welcoming - or at least, he tried to be welcoming. "For _you_." It was a promise; a _dark_ promise. A promise he planned to fulfil; he was a man of his word after all. Besides, the mob was starting to get. On. His. Nerves. They needed a lesson - in manners; and to not keep _his_ things from him.

Her eyes widened, confused; flattered; _hesitant_. "Oh..." Hesitation doll, what did he say about _he_-_sit_-_a_-_ting_?

The Joker moved to crack his neck and turned to her again, curiousity seeping in. "You got a uh, _name_?" Does she have the right answer?

The brunette didn't lift her eyes from the stitching this time; good. She's learning. "Chace." Chace; _Ace_; Ace of _Spades_. It's like as if she was made for him. He tilted his head and began chewing on his scars; not that he did believe that she only had one name, but it was the thought that counted.

The corners of his mouth twitched; his nose was begging to be itched. "Just _one_ name?" He interrupted his chewing to talk, but instantly started again after he'd finished talking. She'd looked surprised, when she saw him chewing on his scars. She didn't look at them, just gave him a confused look.

Chace looked back down to his stitchings and frowned. Did she not like him chewing on his scars? He would've puked laughter if he wasn't busy chewing; it was a habit, just like she chewed on her lip. "... Yeah." She spoke thoughtfully, he'd caught her looking at his scars, which annoyed him. A lot.

An amused sound escaped his lips. Girl after his own heart - not that he had one. "I like tha-_t_." He said, popping the last t in that.

Chace hesitated - _again_ - on the last stitch, she'd probably never been complimented so much before. How... _funny_. "You... You do?"

He nodded, grinning at her. She was a puppy; caged - by the mob. She'd grow up into a dog; a caged dog. His caged dog. If you let a caged dog free, they'd either be your most loyal friend, or... well, they'd end up like him. He didn't know which he preferred. One easy to manipulate, the other _chaotic_. "Mmm." Her eyebrows furrowed, confused. Her lips even began to pout at him; didn't know why. Maybe she was upset that she didn't know why he was talking to her like that.

There was a look; _guilty_ look. At first he was confused, did she tell someone about him? Joker almost slapped himself at that thought, he'd been watching her the whole time, it's not like she's a telepath. "What's..." Hesitation _Ace_, don't _hesitate_; stay in-ter-est-ing, not boring - _cowardly_. "What's your name?" Good girl. _Good girl_.

He thought carefully about what he was going to say, worrying at his scars. She might just catch on, if she was going to be the Ace of Spades. "I don't _have_ a uh, _name_." Didn't need one, if you have one, then you've got reasons. Reasons. Create. Monsters. She'll find out soon enough, she will. He'll make sure of that; just as _Gotham_ provides, he had to provide. Gotham _was_ his mistress after all.

The brunette frowned at him; cute little pout. Made her look like a stupid brat though, he'd teach her not to push his buttons. Soon. "Then what'll I call you?" It  
looked like she wanted to hug him; how... a-_dor_-able.

The Joker raised an eyebrow. He considered giving her his card, but decided against it. He'd hate to have the mob get even more paranoid; keep her in a little cell. If that happened... well, the mob would look ex-_treme_-ly handsome begging, at his feet, begging him to kill them or keep them alive. He didn't know which he preferred. Joker licked his lips, feeling a grin starting. "Why - we gonna mee-_t_ again?" He teased, his grin even more present. There was a look in her eye; hope; happiness even. It made him grin, he was getting on her good side - slowly.

She slid closer to him, her eyes pleading and a slight smile growing on her lips. "Please?" He had her eating out of his hand, it was too easy; too easy. Gotham _will_ provide; she'll make a _warrior_ out of _her little Ace_.

"J. Call me Mister J."

* * *

**I gave this chapter the same leading line and finishing line, 'cause I thought it would be cool, y'know? So what did you think of that? Good? Bad? Atrocious? Excellent? Let me know, if you could! You lovely little people.**

**I forgot to mention, this one/two shot might actually turn into a story. Again, I actually haven't decided because writing is more for fun for me, not making sure to keep an audience happy. So, if this does become a story, it will probably have some of the worst updating dates in the history of updating. The three day wait for this was actually pretty quick, but I actually had this drafted with the other chapter. I think I prefer this one more.**

**Oh, and if this does turn into a story, it will become M rated. Most of my ideas for this becoming a story are e_xtremely _M rated. I'm a very... vulgar person, with a kinda sick mind I guess... but when I say M rated, I really do mean M rated, so I'm sorry if you like this one/two shot but are squeamish. I'd try to put warnings at the start of the chapter but, as I've said, I'm quite vulgar, so something triggering to you, mightn't be triggering for me...**

**Wow, that was a long outro... Peace!**


	3. ii

**Chapter Two**

**See, it takes me forever to update things! I'm so fracking sorry for not updating this for three(?) months. I'll try to get better at updating, I promise. I mean, if I do that, can you promise to still read these and review them?**

**Ugh, anyway, this is a long chapter (more than one scene, four of them if I'm not mistaken) to make up for the lack of chapters. I hope you can forgive me! Onwards! To great story writing! Well, I'm okay at writing I guess. I need to stop so, I'm just going to put the disclaimer in and shut up.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Batman franchise or anything associated with this story that is _not mine_. The characters and back stories belong to DC, _not me_. The only character that I own are my OCs, Chace and multiple other people, and the plot(s) involving them.**

* * *

Being alone once she woke up always made Chace feel lonely. She'd gotten used to it by now though.

The afternoon definitely wasn't as cold as the night before, but Chace still had a bit of a hard time getting warm. She didn't have a hard time getting food though; _never_ had a hard time with that. She wondered if Garrett was the one that left the food, but quickly disregarded the thought. He'd never get up just to give her food; so who was it? Mister J might have done it but he left before she could say goodbye; she hoped she'd see him again, she wanted at least one goodbye hug. Just one; wanted to know what _that_ felt like.

She hoped it was as nice as people always said they were.

She heard the front door being unlocked and opened, hoping that Garrett would actually let her _go_ somewhere today. It was so boring, being locked up in an apartment; no friends, only yourself, movies and books. She didn't read them as much as she let on - she liked to seem smart, like the people in the movies... she was more of a movie watcher - but she still read. Her eyes lifted from the ground as she watched Garrett walk into the kitchen. He was looking at her disapprovingly, she didn't know why; the fact that she was sitting on the counter?

She shrugged at him, continuing to eat her sandwich. "How was your night?" That was it, that's how they would start their conversations; no hello, no are you fine - well, _maybe_ are you fine - just a how was your night. She never knew why he did that; she'd loved to know, but never asked. She didn't think he'd give a straight answer; never did.

She swallowed her mouthful, watching her feet. At least the answers were always short and sweet; never need too much thought. "Cold." Chace replied with a slight accusing tone, she moved her feet and wiggled her toes; she felt bored. And excited. She _really_ needed to get out of the apartment.

There was silence for a minute before she thought she heard a mutter of _"Shit, forgot about that..."_ but didn't think about it. She was just happy to eat her salad sandwich; a summer kind of meal. She wondered why it was so cold during the night that it felt like winter instead of summer, maybe that's why Garrett forgot. She couldn't blame him for not knowing that it was going to rain, she wasn't _that_ bad.

Sighing through her nose, she watched Garrett open a beer; Corona, his favourite. Chace never understood the love for beer; for whiskey at least. She had a shot glass of Jack Daniel's before and almost puked; Vincent said that you don't drink it for the taste. She really didn't understand that - doesn't everyone eat and drink things for the taste? She did, why didn't they? The girl could remember asking Vincent about that and he just _laughed_ at her, said that she'd understand when she was older.

She hated that phrase; understand when she's _older_.

It felt like everything that Garrett or Vincent or Johnny - or anyone else that she knew - would say that, she wished that growing up didn't take so long. For a brief second she wondered if Mister J took long to grow up, he certainly didn't look grown up. She couldn't think of many people who dress up like a clown and are grown up. Maybe that's why clowns are so funny; they're grown up children. The thought made Chace smirk.

Deciding that she wanted to talk about last night, she pushed herself from the counter and walked over to Garrett. Her feet hurt when she landed (maybe she'd think before sitting on the counter again) but she tried to ignore it and sat herself down beside Garrett. "I helped the man who came last night." Taking her last bite of her sandwich, she turned to look at Garrett.

She noticed him tense and give her an odd look. "... What?"

Chace just returned his odd look. Wasn't he the one who told her to look after any man who happened upon this apartment? "The man... the one that came here last night, I helped him." She continued, stating her sentence as if it was the most obvious thing in the world - which it was, to her anyway.

His eyebrows furrowed and he gave her a more worried look; confused too. She wondered if Mister J wasn't even allowed to come into her. "A man wasn't supposed to come to you last night." Well, that solves it.

She gave him a blank look. "Oh." Who did she help then? - the police? Last she heard, police didn't dress up like clowns.

The man - black man, nice suit, probably not a man of simple tastes, like his boss. Chace wondered if people mixed him and the main man up a lot - turned his body towards the girl - white girl, small, looked homeless, didn't even look washed; looked like there was dirt all over her face. She had showers, just not often enough, which she told Garrett often but he _still _hasn't bought shampoo and conditioner yet. "Who was he?" Chace frowned at his alarmed face. Mister J was just a clown, plus he wasn't even nice enough to tell her his real name, despite her efforts.

A shiver ran through her when she remembered those efforts. "I don't know."

"Chace." His voice had a warning in it, she never liked when he did that. She's probably in trouble now - but she didn't lie.

Letting out a pained sigh, she pouted up at him. Chace wondered why Garrett thought that she _lied _to him. She was a bad liar. "I don't _know_, he wouldn't tell me his name, okay?" Chace wasn't entirely sure if Garrett believed her - though she was never good at lying, only... truthing - she probably wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise though, she wasn't that kind of person - hoping that he would believe her.

Garrett had his whole body turned towards her. "Did he say anything, anything about who he was?" Well gosh, was Mister J _that _bad of a man?

Furrowing her eyebrows, she told him the only bit of information that she had got out of her... friend. Maybe - if she tried harder - she'd get more out of her friend next time. "He called himself J. Mister J." A sense of determination went through her, like a wave, and she told herself that she would get more information about Mister J. Maybe they could play that game that people played... that questions game.

Twenty questions? No, no, that was a guessing game. Maybe she should guess his life story, that'd be fun. Oh, the things she had planned to say, and do, when she met Mister J again. She didn't think that she ever met a man like him; a one of a kind. Wondering if she was a one of a kind too, Chace took the time to actually look at Garrett's facial expressions.

He did _not_ look impressed. "... What did he look like?"

Purple; Mister J looked purple. And like a happy devil, not a teddy bear. She wondered if Mister J liked being hugged, she hoped he did. Then he'd be her new teddy bear. Maybe she'd call him Teddy when she saw him next. She didn't think he'd like that name.

Finding her voice, she bit her bottom lip, looking up at him. Hesitant. Mister J didn't like that about her, but he wasn't here _now_, so she wouldn't have to worry about that. Yet. "Like a clown." She scrunched up her nose. "A kinda scary clown..." The look that he was (_still_) giving her did not look happy; looked the opposite; looked angry. Or annoyed. Or worried. She couldn't decide; never been _good_ with emotions.

It looked like he was having an inner argument with himself, which she was too. Not with him, with herself. Garrett looked like he was going to poop in his pants when she said that someone came to the apartment last night. She wondered if Mister J got himself into trouble - well, she knew he was in trouble already; he had a bullet in his side, but she wondered _who_ he was in trouble with. Maybe Garrett was there, or not. Maybe, just maybe. She wondered what happened to that one guy... what was his name? She could only remember Salt.

Maybe his girlfriend's name was _Pepper_.

She almost giggled at the thought. Almost. Instead, Garrett had gotten up, which frightened her, and threw away his bottle of beer. Garrett would never throw away his bottle of beer without... a reason. A good reason. Worried, Chace followed him like a tail, trying to not let him out of her sight. She was about to call out to him when he spun around to look at her.

The speed of his speed sent her flying back; not because of his spin, because he startled her. His eyes were frantic, even his _voice_ was frantic. Chace wondered if his thought process was frantic to. "Get down to the car." Not as frantic as she had initially thought, but still frantic. Maybe he had cleared his mind a bit.

She gave him a sceptical look. "Wha-"

Garrett didn't have _any_ time for Chace's shit. "_Now_." His no-shit-taking tone made Chace feel scared and hurried along with him, leaving the apartment. At least she got her wish that she had when she woke up; to leave this apartment.

The girl gave a frustrated sigh, still hot on his tail. "Okay, okay!"

They rushed down the stairs; Chace jumping down two steps at a time, Garrett jumping down three steps at a time. She wondered how he could do that. If she even tried to do that, she'd slip and crack open her skull. Or something along those lines. Maybe. She'd never been exactly graceful; or _ladylike_. Though she'd never had any woman influences in her life, other than the time that she saw a woman with Garrett. She didn't think _that_ would count.

Reaching the car, she moved to get into the front but Garrett shoved her to the back. He quickly got into the car before she could hit him, so she settled for glaring at the back of his head and slowly getting into the car, not quickly. She got a glare back, but she didn't care. At least she had gotten revenge.

The car ride was boring, nothing fun happened. The only thing that really did happen was Garrett's conversation with his boss. All she heard was, _"Gambol?"_ Then she zoned out for the rest of the conversation. Thinking back to last night, she wondered if she actually would see Mister J again. She hoped that she would; that'd be awesome. She loved Garrett, she really did. The fact that they - sometimes - didn't get along, didn't really affect her. She _loved_ Garrett. But he was boring; really boring. They did the same thing _everyday_; almost everyday. Some days they'd do something fun, but that'd be an odd day.

Turning to look at him, Chace watched as his facial expressions changed. She didn't know why they changed, they just did. She wondered why. She wondered if she should ask, but decided against it. Some things are better left alone, like Garrett. She wished to hug him one day; a kiss on the cheek too. He really didn't understand, she was sure that he didn't. She'd hit him if she got the chance though, just for fun.

Considering the fact that the windows were tinted, Chace couldn't really see everything - not clearly, anyway. Just everything with a dark... shadow added to it. It looked weird. She wondered how Garrett could drive with it.

A strong hand to her arm brought her back to reality, his voice did too. "Chace, c'mon." She wasn't moving fast enough for him; had to _jog_ to keep up with him. By the time she got to the top - she thought it was the top; honestly, she had no idea where she was - Chace felt light-headed. She hadn't done anything like that in years, her breaths came out in huffs. Garrett looked just fine though. She glared at him.

Chace watched as he fixed his tie, his suit and everything. It looked like he was trying to impress his boss; not that she could blame him. Seeing it still made her smile though, maybe she could tease him about it.

They reached a door, a big door. It looked like there were a few locks on it; better security than she's ever had. She took her anger out on glaring at the door... then glaring at the man behind the door; Garrett's boss... What was the name he said? Gamble? Gambol? She never met him a lot, not as much as she met Garrett. The last time she could remember seeing his face, was when she was a child; heard his voice a lot though. Gambol smiled at her though. "Chace. Good to see you." She felt like she was his business partner, which she didn't like.

She was a child, not a business partner.

Unsure of what to say, Chace just said the first thing that came to mind. "Hi." Not brilliant, but not horrible. She could've done worse.

Gambol cleared his throat, clasping his hands together. If he was trying to be intimidating, it was working. "Why don't you tell me what happened." He spoke slowly. She'd heard that before; sounded like a question then. Sounds like a demand now.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she began to pout. Garrett wondered if that was her signature face; seemed like it. "Garrett told you what happened." She replied, chancing a glance at Garrett. His body language told her that she wasn't doing this _right_. Well... _great_.

Chace got an eyebrow raise. She could hear his teeth grinding together. "I want to hear it from you." Why was he being so intimidating? "Now." Her eyes widened.

Her mind drew a blank; she panicked. She tried to hurry up her mind. "A guy came into the apartment last night." She quickly got out her answer.

Gambol's eyes narrowed. "Who was he." Another demand.

Her breathing quickened. She hadn't noticed him coming closer until just now; she had a headache. "I don't know, he-"

"Don't give me excuses." He growled.

A muffled whimper; didn't want to seem weak in front of Gambol. Not a lot of people did. "I don't _know_," She whined, just like the way she had said earlier, to Garrett. "he just said to call him Mister J." Why wouldn't anyone believe her with that?

He sighed. "Did he give you anything?"

Thinking back to the night before, the only thing that Mister J had given her was his name. He didn't like when she asked him things; not at all. "No?" It looked like he did not like the question, so she quickly righted her wrong. "No." She spoke, with a more confident tone.

"Good." He nodded, beginning to get up.

She felt so confused; what was going on? "Good? What's so good about-"

They didn't even listen to her. Just talked among each other; seemingly. "Keep 'er by yo' side - and _my_ side - always, understood?" He spoke to Garrett, sternly. She wondered why he took her when she was young.

Garrett began to grin. "Ye'."

Worried, Chace looked to Garrett. "Where are we-" She began, frantically.

Garrett just glared at her. "Shh!"

She decided to try again. "What are we-"

"Shhh!" His glare got more intense.

"Are we-" Third time's a charm.

The man growled lowly. "_Chace_." Apparently third time's not a charm...

"_What_?" Chace frowned at him.

"_Be quiet_." He hissed.

She huffed. "_Why_?"

The grip on her shoulder got more sore; she whimpered. "Because I said so."

She pouted at him, trying to get his hand away from her shoulder. "Okay _fine_." Chace ground out, still struggling to get away from this _room_.

They moved through a door into another room; looked like an office. Gambol sat down in a big chair - she noticed that even when he was sitting, he was taller than her - with Garrett and two - that she counted - other guys. She couldn't imagine there being three more huge guys fitting in here; she wondered what they were doing in here. Then a door, not the one they came in through, opened and a woman walked in; a _beautiful_ woman.

She had shoulder-length red hair, heavy makeup (? Looked heavy from far away; she got closer and it didn't look like makeup), very pale skin. She was tall too. She looked like a pure and utter seducer person... those people? What were they called? Seductress-es? Something like that...

The fact that Chace couldn't see the woman anymore - Garrett decided this was someone she wasn't allowed to see, or was Chace the one that the woman couldn't see? - which annoyed her. "Good afternoon." Her voice was just as smooth as the way she looked. Chace wished that she could see the woman.

There was a scoff. "Skip the pleasantries." That wasn't Gambol... was it? Chace couldn't tell.

"Gladly." The woman chuckled.

A beat. Chace peeked past the edge of Garrett's pants and she could see her; the woman. "Whatchu doin' with Gambol's money?" Definitely not Gambol this time; still wasn't sure exactly who it was though.

The woman raised an eyebrow, amused. Chace wondered if she knew Mister J; no one smiled as much as he does... she didn't think anyone else smiled that much. "What money?" She asked, laughter could be heard in her voice.

Gambol narrowed his eyes. "The money that you borrowed." Okay, that was Gambol. She was getting better... not really.

The woman tilted her head, slightly annoyed. Chace missed it though. "I borrowed no money, Gambol. I have long since returned it."

"Bullshit." Gambol growled.

The room felt like it dropped a few degrees. "Was it not your grandmother that was in the Narrows?" Chace even shivered; no more joking in the woman's voice. "She would've ripped you apart when she saw you, then she'd rip hers-"

He interrupted her, not liking where that conversation was going. "I want my money." He said, simply. He sounded like a child - like _her _- when they don't get their way. Chace wondered what the woman was going to say.

The woman scoffed. "I want the world, but I've lived knowing that the world is hard to get, Gambol."

"How about I rip yo' pretty li'l head off, what'll you think then?" Gambol clenched his fists.

A smirk graced the woman's features. "There's only one man who could do that, Gambol; he works for me. Remember?"

Chace could hear Gambol grit his teeth. "I fuckin' _remember_, you dumb bitch, he ain't free." She frowned, not liking where this was going. She hoped that neither of them were going to get hurt. She liked the woman, and Gambol... he was the one that was keeping her _alive_.

"Neither was my medicine, it's quite priceless actually." The woman pointed out.

Gambol looked like a rabid dog, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. A shiver ran up Chace's spine. "Bull-fucking-shit."

"Do I need to remind you?" The woman tilted her head.

Gambol even bared his teeth. "No."

The redhead sighed, disinterested. "Then there's nothing more to discuss." The woman moved to get up.

Gambol slammed his fist against the table. Chace jumped. "Bitch, you either gimme my money or you'll fuckin' regret it!" He bellowed. Chace clutched at Garrett's pants; Garrett grabbed her hand. Chace wanted to sigh in relief and succumb to the comfort that he was giving her - he never gave her comfort.

The redhead chuckled. How was she so calm? "No, Gambol, the only person here that will be regretting anything is you." She put one foot out, but then stopped, as if remembering something. "Actually, there is one thing to discuss, just a little present from a... _friend_." Her fingers went between her boobs - Chace blushed - and she pulled out a crumpled sheet. She grinned at Gambol; mischievous; sultry.

A range of emotions were visible on Gambol's face; with Chace only being able to name one - they moved too fast. Anger. Pure and utter anger. "The fuck did you get this?!" Gambol threw the sheet over his shoulder and landed it on the ground; peeking at it, Chace tried to make out what it said. It was a crumpled up piece of paper with red (blood?) writing on it. Chace made it out as, "I want my half!" with lots of "HA! HA! HA!"s around it. There was something underneath it all, but Chace could barely make it out.

J... Joe... Joseph? Joe... Kurr... Joe Kurr? She began to think Joe Kurr fastly in her head. Joekurr, Jokurr, Joker... Joker? The Joker? Was that Mister J? Her head began to hurt, so she stopped thinking about it.

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. "From a friend." For the first time, the woman made eye contact with Chace, which sent a shiver up Chace's spine. Not a shiver of fear; of _excitement_. The woman even _winked_. "Toodles." Her fingers curled into the palm of her hand, like a wave. Chace realised that the woman was waving at her.

She wondered if she should have said toodles as well.

* * *

Kissing someone else is fun; kissing someone else with the someone else being - half - naked is a lot more fun; being the person that is sitting beside two people kissing - one of them being half-naked - well... it's _not_ fun. At all. Especially when they decided to ask all of their friends over, then it's just... disgusting. She wondered how these people lived like this. Shuddering, she looked up to her companion - though she never liked to call him that - and _his_ companion. Chace, then and there, promised herself to never become... one of those. She just wasn't that _type_ of girl.

She was the kind of girl who would stick around for hours and hours just to ask though. It was something that she loved about herself. Not that anyone would pay attention to her, let alone answer her question. It's just nice to have that quality when you need it, like now. Except he seemed preoccupied. With spit. And boobs, maybe some ass too. Chace wondered if she'd ever look like that woman - tanned, curvy, beautiful (not as beautiful as the red-headed woman, but beautiful nonetheless).

They were pushing against her, she wanted to push back. She wouldn't; she didn't want her tongue to get torn out of her mouth. Chace couldn't even tell if it would be the woman or Garrett that would tear her tongue out. She hoped it would be the woman, then she could beat her _bloody_. "Garrett?" She hoped he could hear how irritated she was, just by hearing her voice. He always seemed to think that she could.

Maybe, for once, he could return the favour.

They continued on with their... could she even _call_ that kissing anymore? All she heard was a groan, sounded annoyed, then him turning towards her. "'m busy, Chace." Apparently, the woman found it funny, she even started kissing along his neck.

Chace wanted to puke, but she didn't. Garrett was the opposite, he was smiling. He'd even made a _noise_. The woman turned to look at Chace with half lidded eyes. Had the woman not been - practically - naked, Chace would've liked her. Her lips were full, she looked foreign; indian maybe. "He really is, honey." The woman bit her lip and began to move her kissing from Garrett's neck to his face.

Chace had to applaud herself for not puking - again; puking seemed to be the one thing on her mind now - and not punching the woman in the face. That bitch wasn't in this conversation, Chace and Garrett were. Not this woman - ugh, why can't she just punch her? All Chace wanted to do was ask a question, with a one word answer. Maybe. She wouldn't know; not unti she could actually _ask _the question.

Huffing, she pawed at Garrett's arm. She hoped that Garrett would just give her one second of his time; just one, then she'd go. "What did he want half of?" Her voice sounded more whine-y than it was supposed to be, but at least she wasn't _pleading_. The brunette didn't want to plead with Garrett, she just wanted his attention. And his hugs.

If she ever got a hug from Garrett, she'd die happy.

There was a growl. "Busy." He grumbled, the woman's giggles could be heard - again. It's a miracle that Chace didn't pull the woman's hair out.

It took everything she had to not hit Garrett and that stupid woman; her laugh was... Chace couldn't even think of words to describe that laugh other than _stupid_. It was a _stupid_ laugh. Making a sound of disapproval, Chace stomped away from Garrett - and that... that... _whore_ - and made her way around the apartment. If that's what you could call it. It seemed like a house, it was so big! She'd only seen houses this big in movies, even then it didn't look as... expensive as this apartment.

Biting her lip to hide a smile, anger at Garrett forgotten, she ventured into the apartment; curiousity taking over. Each room looked bigger than the last; pool room, bedroom, lounge, another bedroom, offices - that's what it looked like anyway - another pool room - much, much, much bigger than the last, she could see - another office - probably the one she was in earlier.

A smell dragged her away from her exploring, even though it felt like she'd not even seen _half_ of the apartment yet. She wanted to see it _all_; needed to see it all. Each room was exquisite; expensive looking wood, big comfy-looking chairs, huge televisions, the lot. She found the smell a lot more appealing now though; so did her tummy. Hearing her tummy rumble, Chace decided it would be best to follow the smell. It smelled like something she'd never smelled before. She wondered what it was.

Moving over towards the wall, she placed a hand along the wall, feeling it as she walked. The smell led to a kitchen (where else would it lead? The bathroom?) with the door almost closed. Taking a peek, Chace noticed a large black man - who she recognised as Gambol - and a much smaller, not _small _though, black woman. She didn't know who she was. They were both smiling; joking with each other. She wondered if Garrett ever saw his boss like this. Licking her lips, Chace took a step forwards, carefully - she didn't want to let them know she was here yet.

Though she'd never been graceful.

The door creaked and both of their heads turned in her direction, alarmed. At first the woman looked scared, but her face instantly softened once she saw it was only a little girl. Chace couldn't think the same about Gambol though. "Gambol?" Her voice was small; didn't think that Gambol wanted her here.

He did _not_ look pleased, neither did the older woman. Chace noticed just how older the woman looked; a lot older. Although, the woman's displeasure looked like it was being directed at Gambol, not her. Hm. "What." He demanded, making the older woman look even more displeased. Maybe the woman was... she's too old to be his uh, _friend_. Maybe she's a relative.

Figuring that she could maybe get the answer out of Gambol, rather than Garrett. She moved further into the kitchen, not too much. Chace would like to have - at least - a chance of getting out not hurt. "What did he want half of?" She gnawed at her lip and didn't think about the fact that if she bit too hard, she'd draw blood. She never liked to think about that.

That question had confused him, Chace could tell. His eyebrows furrowed; even looked annoyed. "What?" There was more of a question added this time but it still sounded like a demand (was everything a demand with him?), so she quickly got on with explaining.

"Mis-" She decided not to use that name; not in front of Gambol, at least. What did Gambol call him? Something starting with J, she'd only heard him mutter it. J... Joe... Joke... Joker? The Joker? Yeah, yeah, that sounded good. "The Joker. What did he want half of?"

That triggered his thinking mind; seemed like it did. She figured that she had caught him off guard, so she busied herself with getting acquainted with the older woman. Not talking; just taking in her appearance. She was only a bit taller than Chace, it seemed; maybe three or four inches. Five, if the woman (and/or Chace) was lucky. Her hair was definitely greying, it looked frail; fragile. Not like Chace's hair; thick; short; choppy. Chace never did like her short hair. She wondered why they did cut her hair. It felt like everyone already knew that she was a girl but Chace didn't like to talk about it, being a boy was such hard work. Only it wasn't, she never gets to _see_ the outside world anyway.

If they _did_ think she was a boy, she'd like to keep it like that; not make them suspicious.

It seemed as though Gambol had finished thinking; she wondered what he thought about. "He wanted half o' th' money, you foo'." His voice brought Chace out of her thoughts; he got a slap to the shoulder too. Seemed like a small one.

The older woman was frowning at him, unimpressed. She was even pointing her index finger at him. "That ain't how I raised ya, young man." She pointed out, sternly. Chace briefly wished that she would've met this woman sooner, but immediately shoved the thought out of her head. Instead, she tilted her head at the two of them. They had a glaring match; she suddenly felt awkward, like as if she was interrupting something; which she _was_.

The height difference between the two of them looked funny; strange. Gambol actually looked scared of the little woman; Chace had to bite back a smile. Seemingly defeated, Gambol sighed and left the room. He probably wasn't defeated; just not bothered. Chace didn't blame him, she would have done the same. Her face instantly softened as she turned to Chace. "Sorry about him, sweetie." The older woman smiled at her and Chace would've felt bad if she didn't smile back, so she did smile back at her. "And th' rest of 'em, they're all... they had bad mothers."

Chace would've scoffed if she felt the older woman was rude, but she wasn't; not to her. She felt like saying _"At least they had mothers"_ but Chace thought of that as rude, so she kept it to herself. She settled for, "It's okay." She gave the older woman a shy smile and the woman chuckled. It made her smile even wider, there was just... a homely vibe from this older woman. She was jealous of all her children; she wanted to be _her_ child. Thinking back to the reason she had walked in here, Chace looked around the kitchen. "What's that smell?" It smelled absolutely delicious, she wished that smells could be eaten too.

At first, the woman was nonchalant. "Oh, nothing really... just some cookies." The woman gave her a knowing smile.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she didn't know why the older woman gave her a knowing smile. "Cookies?" What are cookies? She hoped they tasted nice, they definitely smelled nice. Never like anything she's ever smelled before.

The older woman chuckled. "Yes, o' course. Though I ain't never met a child that ain't happy to see some cookies, sweetie." She teased, a bit on confusion in her voice. Her voice was so warm, Chace just... Chace couldn't believe it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd met someone like this, she couldn't even remember her own _mother _being like this.

Chace smiled sheepishly, looking down to the ground. "I... I've never had a cookie before."

That shocked the woman; completely shocked her. Her mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. Chace suddenly felt guilty, until the woman found her words. "You never... don't worry, we'll fix it right away." The woman hurried to the stove or cooker... Chace could never tell which was which.

Walking to the chair in front of one of the counters, Chace plopped herself down, happily waiting for her cookies. She wondered if Garrett ever had a cookie before. If he did, then she'd call him a traitor. Why didn't she get one of _his_ cookies before?

The older woman had stood over by the stove - or cooker - for too long, Chace decided. Curious, Chace tried to look over the woman's shoulder. "What are cookies?" She asked, failing to see over the woman's shoulder because she was blocking her view; the absolute _cheek_ of her. The woman even gave her a cheeky _smile_.

Shaking her head, the older woman placed both of her hands on Chace's cheeks. She was so warm; Chace wanted to bury herself in the woman's warmth. "Oh sweetie, I was wonderin' why you looked so glum." She looked glum? That was being sad, wasn't it? "You're hungry, ain't ya?" The woman asked, bringing her hands away from Chace's face; which upset her. She didn't want the woman to move away from her.

Before she could answer vocally, her tummy answered for her. "Maybe a little..." She admitted.

Chuckling, the woman turned to her. "Oh, don't be shy, sweetie. C'mere, it's real nice." It looked like the cookies were done, but Chace couldn't tell.

Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, trying to make out what cookies were. "Are-" She hesitated and bit her lip. "are they nice?" She asked, curious. Chace still had to look up at the woman; like she did with everyone, despite how small this woman was. She wanted a cookie, right now.

The older woman grinned down at her, a mischievous look in her eyes. Chace decided that she really, really, really liked this woman. She was definitely better than Garrett, that's for sure. "Mhm, they betta be. They're my cookies, I ain't th' cookie queen fo' nothin'." The older woman looked like she was trying to get the cookies to cool down.

Chace giggled, standing on her toes to get a better look - and smell - of the cookies. "They sure smell nice." The girl commented, wanting to reach for one and just devour it.

She nodded her head, agreeing with Chace. The woman cleared her throat. "So, what's your name, sweetie?" She asked, trying to set up another conversation. The woman took one of the cookies and began eating it, licking her lips.

Chace greedily took one, happy that she could taste this delicious goodness. "I'm Chace." She decided to say, before she took her first bite. It was... there's no words for it. Chace sighed in relief and smiled up at the woman, who was chucking at her. Why, oh, _why_ had she never been given cookies before? If Garrett was here, she would've hit him. And told him to buy her a hundred cookies.

The woman nodded down at her, finishing her own cookie and taking another one. Chace finished hers closely after the woman's and quickly took another one; she was sure that there'd be none left after she was finished with them. "Nice t' meet you, Chace. I'm Ruth, the head mamma 'round here." Ruth; nice name for a nice face. It was good to have a name now; calling her an old woman - or woman - would be extremely rude.

Looking up at Ruth, curious. "Are there other mammas around here?" Maybe one of them was _her_ mamma.

Ruth looked down at her, giving her a strange look. "No sweetie, just the one." She rubbed the little girl's shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort.

She sighed, disappointed. Maybe she'd meet her real mamma later, she wished she could. "Oh." She wondered if mamma and mother meant the same thing; probably did. She'd give an educated guess. "Does that mean you're my mamma?" She asked, hopeful.

Smiling, Ruth rubbed her thumb against Chace's cheek again. "Of course sweetie, I'll be your mamma." Chace laughed breathlessly, she couldn't remember a time when she was so... happy. Maybe last night, with Mister J, but that was different. This... this is _different_. She was about to hug her, but she decided that she wanted to ask first.

"Is Mister J my papa?"

Judging by the look Ruth was giving her, that was the wrong question to ask.

* * *

The cookies were nice; better than nice. Chace had never tasted anything like it before, her mouth watered when she ate the first cookie; couldn't resist the second. Or third. Or fourth. Or fifth. Not even the thirteenth. She stopped at thirteen - not because she wanted to - because Ruth told her to.

The girl would give out to the older woman but she liked that older woman too much, she wondered if it was too quick to be so... friendly with her.

Chace dispelled the thought as she felt her eyelids falling without her permission, she'd think about it later; or tomorrow; or later - much, _much_ later. She looked up at her companion, the one that probably hated her because he had to _babysit_ her. His job in the mob, the fucking _mob_, was to babysit some little girl. Some little girl who his boss probably didn't care about, he didn't think Gambol cared.

"Hey Garrett?" Her small voice called out, even she could hear the tired in her voice. Maybe the thirteen cookies had been too much. Just a little too much.

The man looked up from his cards, damn _good_ ones too, and gave her an annoyed look. "What?" It came out more forceful than he wanted it to be, but he didn't care. He was winning a card game now; didn't need some snotty kid ruining it.

Her head rested against his shoulder, she was even frowning. Chace felt too tired to even think. "Where am I sleeping?" Her arms wanted to hug him, but she told herself not to embarrass him in front of his friends. He had an image to uphold; badass image... whatever badass meant. Where did she hear that before?

He shrugged her off his shoulder. "In a bed." He responded, curtly. The other men looked nervous; she wondered what they were playing.

She gave a breathy laugh; tried to not show the hurt of him brushing her off. "I knew that, silly." Her small hand grasped his, trying to pull him in her direction. She really wanted to sleep, she'd sleep in her own shit if she had to. Except she wouldn't, her life had too much luxuries for that - not as much as Gambol had, but still... a lot more than most people in this city had.

Garrett sighed through his nose and gave the other men a look; scared her too. Making sure to secure an arm on his, Chace gave an innocent look to his annoyed one. He grit his teeth as he pulled - dragged - her along with him. He could see that she wanted to be carried; didn't say it though. Would probably deny it if asked, not that he cared. He didn't - he just didn't like the fact that this little - idiot - girl would follow him around like a headless chicken.

She really was _pathetic_.

Chace wondered what Garrett was thinking; if he was annoyed. She hoped he wasn't; maybe then he'd pay attention to her. They walked down a long hallway - which she didn't like - and Garrett opened a door - which she did like. "This 's yo' room fo' now." He muttered, yanking his arm out of her grip. Again, she had to hide her look of hurt from him. She hoped that she actually was hiding it; not pretending; not lying.

"Will you sleep with me?" Her question shocked her; she had no doubt that it shocked him too. He even didn't answer for a while.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "No."

Pouting, she moved closer to him, trying to get a hug in. "C'mon, please?" He wouldn't let her hug him.

"No." He wanted to hit her. Didn't see know that he had a game to get back to?

Chace gave - what sounded like - a muffled whimper, pawing at his arm. "Please?" Her eyes looking up at him, pleading. She missed when that person would sleep in beside her when she was little. Ironic, isn't it? Chace wanted to grow up faster, but she also wanted to go back in time. Funny. It's probably just life. The wanting of things to change, yet the wanting of things to not change always clashed together.

Garrett began to get annoyed, he even growled. She had to suppress a shiver. "No, now stop." He pushed her towards her bed.

The girl huffed, slouching her shoulders; defeated. "Fine..." An idea popped into her head. "What would you do if I escaped?"

Garrett actually grinned at that. "You ain't escapin'." He even chuckled.

Her eyebrows furrowed, annoyed. "I might." She wondered where this sudden liveliness was coming from, maybe from the cookies and the sugar rush. Or she just wanted to leave. Probably both.

He raised an eyebrow. "No you mightn't."

"But I _would_." She whined.

The man scoffed. He _scoffed_. Chace wanted to _beat_ him. "No, you can't."

Her stomp almost surprised him, more amusing than surprising though. "I could beat you in a fight!" Chace wanted to hug him and cry; tell him how sorry she was. She didn't like fighting with him. He could just make her so _mad_ sometimes.

Garrett laughed through his nose, a full grin on his lips. "I'd like to see y' try." Like when he said stuff like _that_.

Angry at his grin, Chace gave him the meanest face that she could muster. "Alright so, c'mon, right now." She stood as tall as she could, which wasn't really tall, and stomped her foot. "Hit me as hard as you can." She slapped her hands against her chest. Had she been less annoyed, she would've laughed at herself, she looked absolutely ridiculous. This man was nearly twice her size. He could punch her and send her flying into a wall!

Chace would never admit it, but she was an idiot sometimes. Only sometimes.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Garrett turned his back to her, heading back to his card game. If any of those guys looked or stole his cards while her was out doing... _this_, he might just... "Good _night_, Chace."

The girl pouted angrily at him; her hands itched. She hoped that they would practice her fighting tomorrow. "I _will_ beat you in a fight." She muttered, sounding like a stubborn child. Which she was. He'd prefer not to say that though, he didn't want to give everything away to her.

He chuckled at her, chuckled; absolute cheek of him. "I said good night." His voice sounded joking almost, like he was mocking her. Which he was, anyone could tell. Chace wanted to punch in right in his face, maybe break some of his teeth. She'd show him; the rest of them too. Her anger bubbled inside her; triggered some angry tears. She had to hold back an annoyed shout - she hated when the angry tears came. She was angry, not _upset_. Furiously wiping the tears away before they could even make an appearance, Chace huffed. Angrily, at first. Then the _real_ tears came.

She created fists and sniffled, her voice a whisper, cracking from the crying that she had done.

"I promise."

Her promise was a lot darker than she had meant it to be.

* * *

"I'm bored."

"Nice t' meet you, bored."

She tugged at his shirt. "_Garrett_."

The man pushed her away, with his hand on her face. "I'm busy." Chace huffed, he was always busy now, hmm? Well, she knew where she lied with her friends. She could just look for a new one, friends are always replaceable. Sending Garrett one last fleeting look, Chace frowned and took off looking for her new friend.

He, by chance, seemed to be sitting right beside Garrett. They both had the same expression on their face; unamused. "Hey, Vincent?" Chace tugged at his jacket.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Victor." He corrected.

Chace beamed at him, even though he wasn't even looking in her direction. At least they were getting _somewhere_ with this conversation. "Victor, right... Uh, can-"

"I'm busy." He interrupted her.

She wanted to groan. And kill the man who was taking away all of her friends; she just wanted to kill him! How was she supposed to have fun?

Sighing through her nose, Chace tugged on his jacket even harder. "Aw, c'mon. Please?" She tried the technique that she had tried with Mister J. It worked for him.

"No." Didn't work for Vincent though.

She huffed – _again_ – and went off looking for a new friend – **_again_**.

"Johnny?" This one looked a lot nicer, he wasn't as dark as Vincent and Garrett but he wasn't as light as her either. I think people call them Hispanic, but Chace has never been one for remembering things; especially stereotypes.

He gave her a look. "Name's Joe."

Her eyebrows furrowed and her nose scrunched up; she'd never been one to hide her emotion - especially not her confusion. Silly little idiot. "Really? Johnny sounds better. Do-"

He interrupted her - everyone seems to be doing that lately. Maybe she's just not intimidating enough? Maybe she should say that Mister J is her friend, that'd really change their opinion of her. "I'm busy." She (mentally) kicked herself for expecting any different.

"Why is everyone busy?" She crossed her arms and leaned her head over to lie on his shoulder. He didn't really appreciate it.

He sighed through his nose and Chace was actually feeling hopeful now. "Do you want to watch TV?" Hey, that's something new... not that he'd be playing with her (she didn't think that he would) but this was a start.

Her head (thankfully) lifted from his shoulder and tilted; Joe mused the idea of Chace being a dog; a puppy. She'd never be any different - he didn't think that she'd be any different. "TV?" Little bitch actually looked _confused_. Didn't Garrett teach her stuff? "What's TV?" Evidently _not_.

Maybe it was just those fighting lessons that he said he gave her. "Television." He stated the obvious - he never liked to, but he supposed the situation called for it. If he were a better man, he'd call himself a hypocrite. But he wasn't, so he didn't think about it.

"I only watch movies and read books..."

"Well, you're watching TV."

Deciding that she didn't want to argue, Chace gave the man a grateful look (at least _one_ of the men was her friend) and sat down on the couch – which made a noise when she sat down. "Okay." She wondered what TV was...

"- And we are doing everything in our power to stop this madness." She thought that she just missed the start of whatever this was and only saw the woman for just a second. Her eyes looked like a cats and she looked like one of those people from that movie... what was it? One Missed Call? That movie gave her nightmares; she shivered remembering them but told herself to focus on the television. "Over to you, Mister Dent." Asian; Chace was sure that was what the woman was. Mister Dent was much different though.

He suspiciously looked a lot like the typical American man - blonde hair, blue eyes. She didn't envy his girlfriend, which was all that mattered to Chace; that and what he was about to say.

He spoke, a lot less serious than that woman was. "Thank you, Miss Gold. First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today; I am sure that not all of you voted for me," He paused; the audience took it as a joke. They laughed, he smiled... Chace wondered if TV was always like this - _fake_. "but that doesn't change that this city - this once great city - is my first priority. Both the good and the evil. With the matter at hand, I realise that the Mob are still out there. They're bribing us, killing us, taking our own..." He paused – again. Chace bit her lip, wondering if _he_ had lost one of his own. Certainly _seemed_ like it.

She wondered if Mister J ever lost anyone, but immediately shook the thought away. She didn't think that he'd like the fact that she thought of him so much. "But that's about to change. I will not stand by to see this corruption go on any longer. It is my job - it is my _duty_ - to bring the hope back to the people; to stop this corruption." He had a way with words, she'd give him that.

"Mister Dent, Mister Dent!" Everyone seemed to call to him at once.

His finger pointed out the lucky reporter. "Yes?"

"How will you go about stopping this corruption?"

He began to grin again, Chace tilted her head; she wondered if that was part of his charm. "The old fashioned way," He stated, happy. Almost smugly. "I have full faith in our Gotham Police Department, they will prevail; we will not let their lawyers defend their corrupt actions, nor their bank accounts, nor their own friends, wives, children... No, no... and we will k-k-k-k-" Mister Dent's voice became choppy... then high pitched, like he was being rewinded; which he was. "K-k-k-kiiiiiilll- them." Her eyebrows furrowed, horrified. He was going to kill their families? That didn't make any sense... was she Gambol's child? Is he going to kill her?

The questions were leaving just as quickly as they were coming; panic was setting in. Her breathing was uneven, extremely uneven. She didn't want Mister Dent to come and find her. "We- wiiiill- kiiil-l-l-l-ll- them." She wanted to live. She couldn't believe it. It turned normal, not jerky, again for just a second, then it hit her. This _wasn't_ Mister Dent talking. Chace felt like slapping herself; she always questioned her intelligence when this happened... who was it? "Alright, we're going to have to c-c-c-corruption- you. I- I- I- am- c-c-c-c-corrup-up-up-up-tion. Co-co-co-co-cor-corrupt you-ou-ou-ou-ou." It was getting really, _really_ choppy now. Whoever this was, didn't have the best editing skills. "Meeting adjounred." Mister Dent's voice became normal again, which calmed her down some more.

Frowning deeply, she turned to the men that were sitting at the table. "What's going on?" They seemed to be awestruck too, so she just turned back to the TV.

"I- am- c-corrupt. I- am- you. I- am- c-corrupt-t-t-t- and- I- will- ki-l-l-ll- you." Then a voice - _that_ voice - spoke lowly, almost like a growl; still sounded amused though. She wondered how he could do that.

"_I _be-_lieve_ in Har-vey Den-_t_ too."

* * *

**Sooo, whatcha think? Good? Bad? Totally indifferent towards this chapter? I _love_ reviews, so keep them coming!**

**Also, no Joker in this chapter which is... not okay, I guess. I don't know, I mean, lots of Joker stories have chapters with a lack of Joker. Buuutttt, I introduced a woman instead! Yay, lots of new characters! I feel like any Batman fan will know who that woman is... Oh! I also changed the cover (might take a while to actually show it, but oh well!). What do you guys think of it?**

**So, uh, peace my lovelies! Until next time!**


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